Do You Remember the First Time?

said it with all the purpose of a successful professional, but as it came out I knew I sounded like a caricature of an over-hormonal teenager.
    Miss Syzlack laughed. ‘OK, OK, calm down. We are going through a bit of a phase, aren’t we?’
    ‘It’s not a phase.’
    God, I could go on a murder rampage right now and still be ‘going through a phase’.
    ‘That’s exactly what someone going through a phase always says.’
    ‘Can I just change my subjects? I’m going to be late for my next class,’ I said.
    ‘Look,’ said Miss Syzlack. ‘Changing your A levels is a big deal. It’s a really big decision.’
    ‘It’s not!’ I said. ‘What A levels did you do? I bet you can hardly remember. I bet once you were in university you never ever remembered them ever again.’
    ‘We’re not talking about me, Flora.’ She came and perched on the front of the desk again.
    ‘Look, I know at the moment, growing up seems scary. It all looks very confusing. There are so many choices and options out there.’
    Yuh-huh.
    ‘People your age – I mean, there’s so much pressure on you: to look right, to choose the right things, the right courses, the coolest friends … but it won’t be as hard as you think, I promise.’
    ‘I know that!’ I said. ‘That’s why I want to make sure I do something I like.’
    ‘You know, a lot of people want to go and do creativethings,’ she said. ‘I wanted to be a photographer.’ She smiled, looking slightly embarrassed. ‘But life doesn’t always work out like that.’
    ‘Well, it certainly won’t work out if I take chemistry,’ I said. ‘Look, miss, you know I’m right on this. If it all goes tits up, then I can go join the civil service or something. In the end, it won’t matter. It’s never too late to sit your accountancy exams. But it will mean a lot to me now. At least I won’t regret having a shot.’
    She looked at me.
    ‘I’m sixteen years old. I have years and years and years to fill in with mistakes of all kinds. There are loads of stupid things I have absolutely no doubt I am going to do. But putting myself through two years of maths and chemistry hell isn’t one of them.’ (And neither is sleeping with one of my lecturers again I harshly repeated to myself.)
    Miss Syzlack shook her head. ‘You’ll have to catch up.’
    ‘Trust me, I can.’
    She rummaged among the folders on her desk. ‘Well, here’s the form. Your parents have to sign it.’
    ‘My parents get to decide what I have to spend two years doing?’
    ‘Take it to the European Court of Human Rights, Flora,’ she said wryly. Then she gave me a close look. ‘Are you sure you’re OK?’
    ‘I’m fine. Please stop asking.’
    ‘You definitely don’t want to see the educational psychologist?’
    ‘Honestly, I’m fine. I’ve just realised that I don’t have to do three years of a business degree and join a city firm. How could I not be fine?’
    She looked at me, and shook her head. ‘Off you go.’
    I glanced out the window. Stanzi was there, waiting for me. Fallon was standing near by, obviously talking about her. Stanzi was trying to look as if she didn’t care.
    ‘You know, I think getting through secondary school may well prove to be the hardest thing I’ll ever have to do,’ I said.
    ‘Imagine what it’s like if you never leave,’ said Miss Syzlack. Then she realised what she’d said. ‘Right. Out! I have marking!’
    Stanzi was sitting, doing her best nonchalant act, on the low wall outside.
    ‘Hey,’ I said. I felt bad for confusing this nice person, who hadn’t asked for her girlfriend to have been turned into a thirty-two-year-old overnight. ‘How’s it going?’
    ‘If we were boys,’ Stanzi looked speculative, ‘we wouldn’t have to fall out with anyone. If they’re cross, they just have a fight, then the next day they all go and play football together.’
    ‘I know,’ I said. ‘Why do you think they grow up to be such emotional retards? They never talk anything through.’
    ‘Or bitch anyone up enough.’
    Fallon walked over.
    ‘Sorry, Stanzi, but I couldn’t help but wonder – are your shoes Prada or Gucci? It’s hard to tell at this distance.’
    Amazing. I turned to Stanzi and, without thinking, said, ‘Oh my God. Is she like this all the time? I mean, really every day?’
    Stanzi looked at me, shocked at the outburst. Her big eyes were a mute plea for me to shut up, not to make the situation any worse than it already was.
    ‘Who